


Disintegration

by nulldoesnotexist



Series: Thrice [2]
Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mutual Pining, They Have Some Shit To Talk ABout
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-21 03:49:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21293156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nulldoesnotexist/pseuds/nulldoesnotexist
Summary: (Recently extended chapters, please re-read before any new ones for better context.) While her parents are away, Lydia heads home from college to find an empty house. That is, until she's haunted by Beetlejuice. She and her monster have some things to figure out.
Relationships: Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz
Series: Thrice [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534982
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	1. Homesick

**Author's Note:**

> This links to my previous work, Lullaby. Since my first posting I have re-written and extended some of this chapter. :)

Lydia’s home had been ghostless and haunt-free for almost a year now. There was a bittersweet goodbye she had been anticipating as soon as she started receiving college acceptance letters. As of now, she was home for fall break, back in Winter Haven. The house was overwhelmingly empty as she stepped in with her things.   
  
Recently, she was able to finally forget the feeling of not being welcomed home everyday. Her semester in university away made it easier for her to pretend she was someone else, of different circumstances. However, being back here made it sink in that her usual pair of poltergeists were not coming back. Still, she was surprised her mortal parents weren’t at least home.   
  
“Dad and Delia must have been out either working or shopping.” She voiced, to make the silence a less creeping feeling. The heat wasn’t on in the house, which made her remember the trip her father mentioned earlier in the week. She fumbled out her cell phone from her pocket, realizing they weren’t due back until the following day. “Guess I’ll just surprise them.”

So Lydia wandered alone in the big, dark house, kind of pleased with the grim environment. While she had perked up a bit in her young adult years, she still had a flair for the dark and dramatic. She walked her things upstairs to her room, giving a passing glance to the wedding portrait of the Maitlands next to the passage of the attic. She stopped, bidding them her love with a small touch to the frame. 

Lydia shrugged off her black overcoat and turned on some music on her phone, starting up the large set of bluetooth speakers as synthy rock started to emit from them. What better way to warm up than with a little bit of dancing? Lydia threw herself around as she pushed the volume up, knowing no one else in the house could possibly mind. She had been extremely well-behaved at school. Time to let loose.

She made her way slowly dancing carefully down the stairs, mouthing along to the words of her song. She synced the downstairs stereo to her phone as well, continuing her impromptu dance party.    
  


All too sudden, she noticed the embers of a fire in the downstairs fireplace flickering. Hairs stood on her neck, but she was a brave and resourceful girl. She turned slowly, sliding the fire-poker from its place.

“Hello?” She whispered, inching along the room, turning on all the lights as she moved along, brandishing the fire-poker tightly.

Delia’s style of redecorating placed a humongous mirror adjacent from the fireplace. Lydia whipped around to nearly jumped away from her own reflection. She bit back a curse, and held her chest with one hand, trying to steady her heartbeat.   
  


“Was hoping you’d scream!” The reflection spoke, as Betelgeuse’s body apparated, covering it. He leaned casually on the frame. “Welcome home, Lyds. I loved~ your dancing.”

Lydia’s brain took a moment to catch up with her eyes and heart. He was there, and not just lurking around her dreams like he used to. She hadn’t seen him even in those since she had left for college. She wondered if somehow he was still linked to the house like the Maitlands were, but she couldn’t understand why.

“Beetlejuice.” Escaped from her lips before she could stop it.

He looked hopeful and eager from the otherside of the mirror. “Alright babes, just two more!”

Lydia sighed. “Beetlejuice.” She said once more, propping a hand on her hip and turning off the music from her pocket. “What are you doing?”

Betelgeuse looked no less enthused by the tease. He easily floated out of the mirror, taking a bow for her. His feet met the ground with no sound, but he grinned. “Is that really all you gotta say to me?”

To be honest, she did feel strangely relieved to see him. It had been a while. Since the last time he hasn’t been “out” since the night she murdered him, about three years ago. It had also been their wedding day, but that was another thing she tried not to put too much thought into since it happened, and he never brought it up, much to her surprise.

Their friendship continued only through nightly escapades of Betelgeuse showing up in her dreams. And that was comfortable enough for her, though she had never admitted to her family that she was still seeing him at all.

“Are you wanting to be rewarded for your good behaviour?” She suggested knowingly, lifting an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you ever visit me at university?”

Betelgeuse almost lit up, and chuckled darkly. “Depends, what do you have in mind?” He moved himself to the couch, recalling what the place used to look like when they took it over for three days, back when they first met. “And babes, I totally would have if I could’ve.”

  
She watched as his eyes trailed around the house, studying it. “Hey, are you still bound to this place? Is that why you didn’t follow me?”

Betelgeuse had sat down, patting a spot on the boring leather sofa that he had no doubt that Charles picked. “Chuck and Darla must’ve been doing it everywhere in here after you left.” He mused.

“Beej! Gross!” 

“You know it's true though.” He smirked, to the air. “And before they were doin’ it, Babs and Adam were doin’ it everywhereee-”

“I don’t wanna talk about that!” Lydia huffed and sat down next to him anyways. “Hey, answer my question.”   
  


The sunset was viewable from the windows, despite their long contemporary shades.

He leaned, propping his arm behind his head for support. “Kid, you’re gonna be annoyed about the answer. I know I am.” His head lolled to the side, and he gave an expression that looked resigned. Still, he smirked.

Lydia was a girl that didn’t like secrets, at the very least not when they involved her. “I want you to tell me anyways. Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll get it.”

His Lydia was a firecracker in some situations, but he hoped that this one wasn’t one where she’d explode on him. “A juicy tidbit about the name game.” He scooted in closer, into her ear, as if to tell her a salacious secret, and it surely could be considered as such. “You can always say it three more times if you want me back off.”

  
Lydia blinked at the implication, clearly not what she was expecting. “Why would you tell me that?”

“Why do you think?” His smile was pointed and mischievous, but not malicious. “You can trust me.”

“Or I can control you.” Her hand poked his nose playfully.

  
“That’s trust enough, ain’t it? I’m telling you that I trust you..can you trust me?” He asked, voice more unnervingly serious. 

Lydia knew she should be wary, but still she would venture someplace scary with this demony-ghost. Just maybe not at the moment. She smiled sweetly at the admission.   
  
“I trust you enough.” She traced decay on the side of his face with her hand before retracting it. “But you still hadn’t answered my first question. Why are you bound to the house?”

Betelgeuse leaned into the touch, however fleeting and despite not being able to feel it properly. He hoped she wouldn’t hate him. “Babes. I’m not bound to the house.” He fixed his gaze upon her, hoping she’d get this implication. “I’m bound to you.” 

Lydia shrunk away from him, remembering the wedding ruse. To be fair, she had thought she had escaped the whole thing rather strings free. Except for her trauma. But alas, death did they part. She then looked speechless and unsure.   
  
Betelgeuse thought mentioning it would ignite a hatred for him, as he did coerce her into the whole thing without her knowing the details. The situation forced her to murder him, too. He thought about it very often, usually he wouldn’t be bothered if he wasn’t scared to lose the girl he considered his best friend. Amongst other things. There was a complicated mess of feelings he usually wasn’t involved with, making it harder to handle.The silence from her was making his skin crawl in all the wrong ways.

“How does that work?” She mumbled out, but stared at him. “If you're bound to me, why didn’t you leave with me?”

He could almost tell that her disappointment wasn’t solely with him. However, the truth would be. “I didn’t wanna come.” He shrugged, trying to leave it at that.

Lydia looked distressed. Then annoyed. Then flat-out upset. “Then why did you bother to show up again? To just mess with me?” She stood up, viscerally pissed. “Abandonment is not the kind of thing I find very funny, Beetlejuice!”

The bright green she knew then had dissipated into a dark and murky purple

He remained seated, listening for the onslaught of insults he had a millenia to harden himself to. But he knew better, that this was Lydia, and she had quickly burned temper that settled into a quiet smoulder. Much unlike his habitual mother. He knew better that he should actually explain himself. He had every right and need to.    
  
“First of all, I would never abandon you, Lydia.” He gathered himself off the couch, standing towards her, noticing her face had already developed angry tears. He took it upon himself to touch her cheeks and wipe them with his thumbs. “Weird of you to not notice, but I’m clingy as hell. And-  _ You’re _ the one who left your wedding ring here.”    
  
Her stunned look made him laugh emptily. “Okay so I guess you forgotten the whole symbolism of those things, huh?” He offered up his hand, a glint of worn metal now noticeable on his left hand. He studied her, and he could swear her pallid skin tinged with that bewildering color. So much for not making this awkward.

Lydia deflated then, and just let out an “Oh.” Silence passed between them for a short burst, before she broke it with, “It was too big, and kept sliding off.”

“Or you didn’t wanna wear it, its fine.” He replied plainly with another shrug. “But now you know why I didn’t visit you. It's the physical representation of the you know...the whole marriage thing.”   
  
“But did that mean that you couldn’t come see me or you wouldn’t?” Lydia pressed. “I didn’t wear it that much here either.” 

“A bit of both.” Betelgeuse took this as his cue to show how upset he was, submerging to a brighter purple that bordered on magenta. He let her go and stepped back, folding his arms and looking down at her. And yet, he continued to repress himself. “It's not like I WAS EVER CALLED, so how should I know I was even wanted?”

Lydia felt a chill near him. Something about the statement felt like a messy, double-edged sword that would only get worse if they continued on like this. “School took a lot of my time.” She sighed, knowing it was a half-truth. “I didn’t want to think about it, I thought..I thought you’d just come.”

Betelgeuse sneered. “You thought I’d just come? Like I don’t have anything better to do?”    
  
Lydia blinked, suddenly feeling selfish. She possibly deserved this.   
  
“Don’t you know how long I have had bluebal-”

“Beetlejuicebeetlejuicebeetlejuice.” She summoned suddenly, surprising both of them, as he re-blinked into existence in the same literal spot in front of her, just in a more corporeal form.

  
He was further discontented by the experience. “What did you want that to do, Lydia?”

He leaned down to her face, at first quietly. “Thrice more,  _ babes _ \- and I’ll leave. That's what you want, right?” He threw himself back. “OUT OF THIS UNCOMFORTABLE CONVERSATION? BECAUSE I’M JUST GETTING STARTED!-”

“No stupid.” She irked, pulling him into her arms. He still smelled the same smoky and dusty scent as the last time, but at least he wasn’t as sweaty. She wasn’t afraid to really hold onto him, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head onto his shoulder. She came to find that the feeling of holding him like this certainly didn’t feel bad.

In exchange, Betelgeuse’s anger and frustration pretty much melted on the spot. But the paranoia continued.

“You’re not gonna find a way to kill me for good, are you?” He asked, with a hollow tone. “Listen Lyds, we seriously need to talk.”

“Why the fuck would I kill my best friend?” She moped into his shoulder, not letting up or letting go. “And I see that, we have a lot to talk about.” She nuzzled him, almost shivering from the cold from both the room and him.

“You’re really gonna wanna stop doing this, babes.” He mumbled, as he dipped his head over her shoulder.

They held each other in the embrace for a long moment. Betelgeuse pawed her back to rub it gently, and it felt too nice to detach herself from it. Lydia only pulled back just enough to look up at him, just to see what he might’ve been thinking at that moment. His face settled in a blissful look, as his eyes caught hers.   
She could feel her heart started to race at the moment as she arched her feet upward to meet him. Their lips were just a single breath’s touch from one another. 

Betelgeause screamed internally as he made himself the one that pulled away, removing himself completely. When did he grow such an annoying conscience? It was just getting to the good part, too.

“Uh. I’ll be on the roof.” He disappeared, leaving Lydia to wonder of what she almost done.


	2. The Same Deep Water As You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betelgeuse does some thinking, up there on the roof. Lydia does some thinking of her own. It begins to snow. Whoops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my placeholder titles are song titles from The Cure. I like to imagine they're songs that Emily, Lydia's mother liked to listen to.  
They don't really have anything to do with the story, unless otherwise alluded to, like Lullaby. Thank you for reading . EDIT: I went ahead and extended this chapter with Lydia's side of things. :)

Betelgeuse was in fact, back on the roof. He wondered, by telling her where he was like that, if she would actually come. Then he worried about her actually coming to him! Was that manipulation? Why he even cared about this whole thing was becoming disturbing. But, if she didn’t come, it would just extend this torture he’s been putting up with for eons.

Those few years ago when he said goodbye, his death banished him back to his reduced power. However, to her, he was more informed about the importance of life. Or possibly just reminded; his own past was murky and ambiguous to recall, a side-effect having existed in this state for so long. But also thanks to her, a whole new chapter of agony opened.

He was indeed, a creepy old guy. It wasn’t his initial plan to crash her dreams over the course of three years, in fact he took a good long break that must’ve spanned several months, and actually did search for his father (though he admittedly got sidetracked by not having any leads, and resigned to the fact that he wasn’t quite welcomed back to his own interdimensional dwelling known as the Neitherworld.)

It all started when he felt restless in his limited station as a ghost. He wasn’t exactly in high demand for hauntings, no one knew his name to call it. The whole wedding thing stabbed him in the foot, it made the living world scarce grounds for him, being stuck to the perimeter of the house. As appealing at is was to stick around and torment the Deetzes and Maitlands for eternity, he didn’t want Lydia to resent him for bringing more trouble than he was worth.  
  
Going back to the Neitherworld was also losing its charm, as he barely recognized it enough to care. His feelings for his dead-again state were complicated; knowing real life for those mere moments had ruined it, made it feel cartoonish and cheap (though arguably that was also the charm of it). The Neitherworld was a parody of life and the living. He was plagued by feelings of how much Lydia would love the place if he could, or would show her.

The _ Netherworld _ was a similar story, and even with his mother dead-throned as Warden he had nothing to gain by going there, as it was no better than being doomed to purgatorius waiting room.

Out of a strange sense of morality towards the girl that made him feel less invisible, and let him become alive (_ briefly _ ), he thought for a good while the best way to not screw up her life was to not be in it, marriage rules withstanding or not. But his chaotic and emotionally indigent nature soon spent what will power only got him through several grueling months of aimless shenanigans before he decided to say a proverbial “fuck it!” to the whole 21st century ghosting thing.

He did think it was an incredible feat of self control itself, that he managed to insert himself into her dreams without completely taking them over. First few nights he even spent sneaking around, merely observing. Lydia would usually only dream of inane things that teens usually stressed about. 

While he had fun being the beetle on the wall while she dreamed of school (man, she hated that claire brewster girl!) he sound found himself wanting more. Why just watch Lydia when he could be with her? So he tested the waters by appearing as himself.

Needless to say, she didn’t seem all too shocked or upset to see him, and with his newfound self-control, he let her take reign (mostly) on their nightly escapades. It was almost exciting in fact, exploring her subconscious with her in primary control. The unpredictability was increasingly fascinating. From that, the dream adventures were the most comfortable solution to them hanging out.

Even after revealing to her that he was the real deal and every gripe and secret she shared with him were things he actually listened to and knew, she never kicked him out or pushed him away. 

However, in the summer before Lydia was to be running off to college, he began to notice something change in her. The dreams were slowly becoming more unleashed, more _ provocative _. Like, one night she’d show up to play in lacy lingerie, the next she’d wear leather, and his favorite; a sexy get-up made of his own stripes. 

At first he assumed she was just experimenting, as fashion and dreams were sort of a by-product of her thoughts and parts of her subconscious he definitely had an interest in. He couldn’t resist to playfully flirt with her about it, of course. She even dared to flirt back, and at most it’d lead to some wandering hands and cuddle piles that didn’t get anywhere far, if only because neither of them took it very seriously. At the time, he suspected that she probably had a mortal or two linked to her romantically at school, based off what she told him before. So being Lydia’s dream interloping ghost best friend was the farthest he’d go.

At least, that's what he _ thought _.

Back in the fields of her subconscious, surrounded by trees of forbidden fruits and ‘other spooky goth shit’ Lydia cooked up in her mind, is where a particular incident happened.

Betelgeuse remembered her clearly, in a black sheer dress whose mystery was only concealed by a layer of black lingerie underneath. They were hanging around a cozy platform surrounded by a circle of lit candles, it reminded him of those fake dramatic seances from TV, and he liked it. She must've too, they spent a good amount of time just sitting in the middle, talking and joking as the candles never seemed to burn out.

  
He remembered her gaze was glassy, determined, as her hand slid down his chest and down to his pants during one of their “_ toooootally platonic _ ” cuddle sessions. Her little hand stayed there, cradling him for a good long moment before she must’ve felt self conscious. She ended it by burying her face into his chest before he could properly smash their mouths together.  
  
And _ hell _ . She moved away from him. Then she apologized!  
He was an idiot in hindsight. Betelgeuse didn’t know what to do with the fact that he knew now that she was, in fact, into him, nor how to carefully navigate her suggestion without sputtering.

Sure, he could’ve pounce, and pump her full of _ /Beetlejuice/ _ but Lydia was more important than a sudden tryst. For starters, he’d want her for real, full-powered, and not just in a dream, but this was _ his Lydia _ that he was dealing with.

Which, for anyone who knew him, he would’ve fucking celebrated and pursued any sort of glimmer of a chance to make a wet dream with her had he not learned this whole “self control” thing.  
  
But then, the fact that they didn’t go anywhere after that messed him up. What if this was just a random act of horniness that she regretted? Would she have hated him if he took things all the way? Of course, he was sexy and smart, but he also knew that most human girls preferred human boys. Human men. Alive ones. Non-dirty, non-grimy, non-bug-eating ones. Didn’t matter if they were ‘married’ and according to some disgusting ancient laws he had ‘rights’, the decision would be Lydia’s. He was tired of forcing things, faking things.

So for the remaining months, as she went on to college, he made himself scarce.

Remaining bound to that house while not haunting Charles or Delia sucked. He had a lot of grief and turmoil to take out on others, too. But he waited, and it was lonely and boring like the many eons he spent before that. But at least that way, whenever Lydia did turn up again, they could be like old times. Friends.

But then she tried to kiss him, so that’s already fucked up. GodslashSatan, he hoped she would come to the roof.

* * *

Lydia was reeling. Why did she do that? At least, why now? At the very least, what this meant to her was that the crush she had been harboring did not die off like she hoped it would at college.

It was inexplicable, possibly; but people fall in love with their best friend all the time! Dis-consider the fact that her best friend was hundreds of years old, inter-dimensional demon-ghost, a bit gross and rowdy, and of course, _ dead _.

Her attachment to him screwed with her head. She must’ve been a deranged girl all along if the one who made her swoon was Betelgeuse. At first she wasn’t sure, and then she started the dress-up game in her dreams. Of course with dreaming, sometimes she woke up kind of hazy, but she had informed ideas of what went on. The first time the dress-up game happened, she remembered it was an accident, sort of like when there’s a dream where you’re taking a test in your underwear, and Betelgeuse just happens to be there. But the fact she _ knew _ it was him and him being there really kind of _ excited _ her.

So she continued pushing this new territory, experimenting with him, and herself, to see if she’d get a reaction. What gave the best reaction. Wearing his stripes. She knew Betelgeuse to be a lech at times, but he also ran his mouth. He didn’t always mean what he said. It didn’t help that he was also shy; leading to an agonizing dance of flirtation that lasted for weeks. It finally came to apoint where Lydia decided to take a bold chance. If she pushed herself to make a move, one that made her intentions clear, then maybe he’d just go for it. If it works well in a dream, maybe she could let him out, and they could try things out for real, if he wanted. If he wanted her. 

So, she purposely imagined the setting to be romantic. A circular bed, candles all around, reminiscent of a seance. A sexy seance? It was exactly what she wanted for her first time. Their wedding night. Betelgeuse didn’t seem to notice, or seem all that surprised. She first tried pushing him down on the ring of a bed in the middle, hoping it would be enough to spark him. He just laughed, and pulled her down with him, rough handling her more like a feisty sibling than a lover. 

Surrendering, she finally wrestled out of his grip, and decided maybe they should talk instead. She remembered the prompted conversation, struggling to make “uh...how was your day?” sound enticing, trying to dodge the questions about school, and she even complimented his hands, which he guffawed and countered with a flirty “wow she likes my hands, huh?” She tried to chase the flirtation by placing her hands on to his, with the intention to drag them across her body, but he took it as an invitation to lift her into a balance hold instead. Damn him, remembering she took gymnastics.  
Lydia had almost given up then, losing her boldness, playing along as he ended the balancing act by lying back and holding her against him on the soft circular mattress. They had definitely cuddled before, but she needed to prove to herself if this was going to end up anywhere. So she touched him. There. For what felt like a long agonizing moment, hoping he’d respond favorably. But things didn’t work out that night. Perhaps, she did act too hasty when she pulled away from him. 

And then he didn’t say anything about it. Despite being a demon of many words, he didn’t say much of anything outside of greetings and chit chat for weeks. She was becoming heartbroken over the fact she might’ve ruined their friendship. He showed up sparingly in her dreams afterwards, naturally things grew awkward. Soon, she ran off to college, hoping to forget it all.  
  
Presently, what hurt most to her was that he didn’t seem interested in the notion of closeness with her now, as she bitterly recalled the fact he asked her to stop. Or at least, he told her that she shouldn’t hold him like that. She was stupid not to listen. They were best off as just friends, after all, it was less complicated, right? Healthier, more normal...

She did even try to date people she knew, finding them nice or okay at best. She tried to be like the normal girls, date and kiss like other, normal girls and boys. Have sex with normal people like the normal girls. None of it lasted, and she knew she was using these stints of relationships to prove things to herself that weren’t true. Through it all, she was only left wondering.

It didn’t help that Lydia loved the strange and unusual, and there were none strange and unusual as him. Her heart hurt, and she felt messed up and dejected, but she wanted to try and save their friendship. She was already in her room, and she was still searching for a worn circle of metal he had mentioned earlier. Finally, she found it hooked to a safety pin hair clip she made a few years ago. Unpinning it, she slipped it onto the thumb of her right hand, as to not lose it.  
She grabbed her coat, slipping it back on as she ran words through her mind before gently opening the window to the roof. 

It was snowing.

She braced herself for the onslaught of cold and stepped out to the increasingly slippery slope.

She looked out, as snowflakes graced her hair and eyelashes. 

* * *

Lydia took too long, dammit. It was beginning to snow. Betelgeuse didn’t usually mind it, it was cold and wet and matched his current mood well enough, it was poetic and SHIT-

Betelgeuse caught the tiny goth that almost succeeded (about three years later), from jumping/falling/sliding off the roof. He was slimy cold and wet, but that didn’t stop him from crushing her against him.

It sounded like she was crying, probably because she realized what had just happened.  
  
“I’m so sorry..” Her muffled and strained voice vibrated his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you’re upset Lyds, but offing yourself doesn’t help!” Betelgeuse tried to say lightly, despite shaking while he dragged her to the window. “You dumbass.”

He finally managed to put her inside the house, and when he afforded her an amount of safe space, he noticed she wasn’t crying, she was laughing.

“I’m sorry!” She managed again. “Just..”  
She was coughing trying to regain her composure, trying to be more serious.   
“You keep stopping me from making these huge mistakes...”

“Death is a huge mistake.” He murmured, trying to see how that was humorous. He felt partially responsible for what just happened. “You’re now banned from the roof.”

Lydia sighed snapped her fingers sarcastically, feeling like herself from her post near-death experience high. Betelgeuse huffed. “I’m fucking serious, babes. I _ will _ tie you down if I have to.”

“Prove it.” Left her mouth before she noticed, or had time to regret it. She decided to own it, giving a smile.

He looked at her with an intrigued gaze, before trying his best to dismiss it. “You’re making this whole innocent friendship thing _ very _hard.”

Lydia shed her black winter coat one more time, tossing it to her bedroom floor, like she was a rookie fighter getting ready for a match. “Prove it.” She said once more, nearing him.

  
He tossed off his own jacket, as a counter. You didn’t have to tell him twice or even a third time. Betelgeuse was going to finish what she started.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading . Next Chapter is..well...y'know..


End file.
